


on a night like this

by anyaofthewoods



Category: Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Mentions of joker - Freeform, only fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24368197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyaofthewoods/pseuds/anyaofthewoods
Summary: Ivy doesn't agree with the way the Joker proposed to Harley, so Harley asks Ivy how she would do it. So Ivy does.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 10
Kudos: 253





	on a night like this

“I can’t believe I thought that piece’a shit was proposin’ to me. You were right, Ives, I shoulda dropped that asshole a long time ago.” Harley’s voice was loud amidst the nighttime lull of the apartment, her body prone on the couch, her head in Ivy’s lap. The television was background noise, unintelligible and unimportant—as most things were to Ivy, when juxtaposed against Harleen Quinzel.

Ivy’s nod was nearly imperceptible, but she remained silent, her fingers continuing their gentle ministrations through Harley’s loose hair, her thoughts racing a mile a minute. There was a lot she wanted to say on the matter, a lot she had said already; the Joker had been a raw subject for both women, each having exchanged cruel words in the past, each testing the limits of their friendship and how long it would take to collapse under the weight of Gotham’s purported clown prince.

But it didn’t.

They came out together, both stronger for it. While Ivy had initially hurt deeply for her friend, she couldn’t help the bitter thoughts that sometimes raced through her head when, in the beginning, Harley’s tears seemed endless—but Ivy was there to wipe them away.

_he never deserved you, he did this to you, I warned you in the beginning, why didn’t you listen, if you had just_ listened _this wouldn’t have happened, I told you so—_

But she kept those thoughts to herself. Ivy knew that deep down, Harley was already painfully aware of these facts, so there was no use in rehashing the same tired argument. After all, the Joker was their scorched earth; some might say the Joker was Harley’s history, but Ivy didn’t think him worthy; history was meant to be remembered, and he deserved to be forgotten, to fade away into obscurity.

A marriage.

How fucking laughable, how fucking ridiculous.

The idea of Harley married to that psychotic fuck was enough to churn Ivy’s stomach. Harley wouldn’t have been a wife; she would have been a _slave;_ she would have been a _trophy._ The Joker never loved her, the bastard had no idea what the word even _meant_ , and Harley would have been tied to him by whatever bullshit law the Joker deemed appropriate to seal the arrangement, and Ivy would never have seen her friend again.

“It was bullshit.”

Ivy’s voice was loud and clear, startling both women with the force at which the words were spoken.

“What’s bullshit, Ives? Tawny tryin’ to pull off that hair color? I agree, she shoulda-“

“No, Harls. The asshole’s proposal. It was bullshit.”

Ivy’s hands slowly pulled away from where they had been resting in the silk that was Harley’s hair as Harley herself sat up to look at her friend more carefully.

“Well yeah it was bullshit, he was proposin’ to the bat, we know that.”

Ivy shook her head before rubbing her eyes, the action so rough that she briefly saw stars.

Ivy sighed. “I mean had he actually been proposing to you, it would have been all wrong; it wouldn’t have been _you._ ”

Harley sat cross legged on the couch, her body facing Ivy while her friend continued to stare at the floor. For a beat, no words were spoken. Harley studied Ivy carefully, noting the stiffness in her shoulders, the clenching and unclenching of her jaw, a telltale sign that Ivy was anxious and potentially about to retreat into herself as she was wont to do. But about what, that was the question-- and Harley fully intended on finding the answer.

Slowly, as if not to startle the already agitated woman, Harley gently placed a finger under Ivy’s chin and angled it so that green met blue. “Hey.” Her voice was soft. “Talk to me, Red. I’m right here.”

Harley watched as Ivy swallowed, clearly wanting to say so much, but unable in that moment to utter a single word. So, it was serious, that much was obvious. Ivy was struggling and needed a lifeline.

So, Harley threw her one.

She always would.

“Tell me then, Dr. Isley. How would you have done it?” Harley’s voice was teasing, her lips quirked up in a grin that Ivy knew was pure, unadulterated trouble.

“What do you—uh—what do you mean? Done what?”

“Propose, of course! You think that prick did it all wrong; I’m curious to hear the _right_ way.”

Harley’s smile was predatory, but behind her eyes was a softness, a vulnerability. Ivy accepted the challenge and forged ahead.

“Well, I wouldn’t propose to you on a boat; not only is that tacky, but boats have no meaning to us, to our relationship with one another. I would do it here, in this apartment. There are too many places in Gotham that have caused the both of us pain, and I would want the moment I proposed to be one of the most memorable and happiest of your life.” Harley’s mouth opened as she inhaled sharply.

Ivy continued. “It would be here, surrounded by our memories of our life together; the picture of us after we won the three-legged race against Selina and Bruce. The skates I kept after you took me to my first and last visit to the roller derby rink. The plants that you bought me for our friendiversary, the ones that we named Harley and Ivy Jr. It would be a night like this, the television playing some inane show that you love, and I say I hate but secretly enjoy.”

Harley held onto every word that came out of Ivy’s mouth. At some point she had scooted closer to Ivy, her fingers curling to meet the strong, elegant hand of her friend. Ivy gripped Harley’s hand in turn, her thumb making gentle circles against Harley’s skin.

“I would propose to you—because that is what this is, darling, a proposal as to why you should choose to spend the rest of your life with me. I would tell you how greatly I value your determination in every aspect of your life; I am continually in awe of your sharp wit and beautiful curiosity and intelligence. Your unbelievably kind and selfless nature is an inspiration—though you may argue otherwise.” Ivy’s eyes hardened as she was briefly lost in thought. “I would swear on my _life_ that I would _never_ lay a hand on you in anger; your body is meant to be worshipped, to be adored. You would be my equal, my partner in every way; in every adventure that we take on together, we do it as such— _together_.”

Ivy shifted to wipe away a stray tear that was making its way down Harley’s face.

“I would promise to try my best to never hurt you, to never make you cry; but I understand that we’re both human and equally flawed, and it could happen—but I would try my damndest to always make you smile.”

Ivy swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “After all of this, assuming that you’ve said yes, I would take your hand and slide a ring on your finger; nothing ostentatious, nothing that screams desperate; it would be classy, sophisticated—like you.”

Ivy looked up from where she had been studying Harley’s hand intently.

“I would tell you that from the first moment I laid my eyes on you that I knew you were going to be my forever.” Ivy’s lips turned up into a rare smile, her face free of the stressors the women usually faced. But in true Ivy fashion, a hand went to the back of her neck after realizing all she had said, a sign that her insecurities were about to take root.

“And, uh, yeah. That’s it. So what did you—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. To the proposal, to all of it.” Harley’s eyes became serious, donning a look that so rarely made an appearance. “I would marry you in a second, Red.”

Ivy leaned back against the couch and put her arm out, and Harley immediately accepted the invitation and curled into the spot that seemed carved just for her against Ivy’s side. As Harley’s head made contact with Ivy’s shoulder, the green-eyed woman placed a gentle kiss atop blonde hair, a silent promise.

_One day, Harley. One day._

**Author's Note:**

> hello again; ive taken liberties, ive made shit up, but that's showbiz, baby. now taking applications for my own ivy, must be tall and broody and like plants


End file.
